On Ranching and Reading
I grew up on my grandparents’ tiny dirt farm of a ranch in Arizona. Most of life there was hard-fought, trying to cultivate and sustain life and growth in the desert. In many ways, fostering something verdant out of the caliche clay of Cochise County seemed an impossible task: fires, floods, competition with big ranchers and developers for water, coyotes trafficking in people and drugs cutting our fences, monsoons that destroyed new growth. The list goes on. But something beautiful there took root.
Today, if you were to drive down the long dirt road to the little plot where my grandfather still lives, you might be surprised to see towering rows of pine trees, desert willows, fruit and nut trees, and the vestiges of where stalls, barns, pens, and coops once stood. It’s something of a surprising oasis. You’d see that certain things grow very well in the desert—they can thrive if given the right conditions. Cultivating an environment for growth took time, and we didn’t just leave organic growth to its own devices–there needed to be systems and structures that supported growth.
How to Read a Book [1], How to Take Smart Notes[2], and The Miniature Guide to Critical Thinking[3] offer systems and structures to support learning, discovery, and a different kind of growth. Especially at this early stage of postgraduate investment, the supports offered by Adler, Ahrens, and Elde give me hope that I can make the most of the invitation in a somewhat foreign and sometimes forbidding landscape. Each work shares a common conviction that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Whether reading syntopically, categorizing and retaining knowledge that leads to understanding and the launch of ideas, or cultivating a critical thinking mindset, all require and are systems that foster growth.
Applying each of these will no doubt bring about forms of conflict. In my work around racial healing and reconciliation, we often remind organizational leaders that the only guarantee that comes with diversity is increased conflict, as individual or group lived experiences and perspectives encounter each other[4]. So, too, it will be with cultivating an ecosystem of reading, processing, and understanding that the confluence of these readings fosters. Invariably, there will be internal conflicts of perspective as new understanding is gained or honest conversations are had with the content (Adler notes this especially well). Interpersonal conflict may also arise as one chooses critical thinking and openness to understanding more than affirmation of preexisting awareness and presumption. If not outright conflict, I anticipate the uncomfortable tensions inherent in trying to press into something different.
I can also foresee a temptation to allow the structures and systems developed by applying these invitations to become an end in and of themselves. It seems vital to retain a discipline where the means serve the ends—a system for the sake of the system is not the goal. Each of the authors mentioned above has their own reminders of this: reading isn’t just to get through a book, but for the sake of understanding; smart notes aren’t about keeping notes, but advancing ideas and part of the process of writing; critical thinking by itself has benefit, but best functions in community as we cultivate “critical societies.” It should be no surprise that each author elevates the need for self-discipline in leveraging their approach—some things pay dividends only over time. For me, this element of intentionality of investment, purposefully engaging in new habits and rhythms, will be a challenge—it’s easy to slip into old habits when things feel overwhelming.
At the risk of continued torture of the earlier metaphor, in much the same way as the little ranch in Arizona took years to cultivate into something more than scrub grass and hard desert clay, I believe developing these skills will take persistence and practice. Rather than seeking to master each of them today, I’m hopeful that by the time this part of my formal educational journey is complete, I’ll have learned to use them well and that they will serve me for a lifetime. I hope to look back and see a kind of oasis that only faithful persistence could cultivate.
[1] Adler, Mortimer J, and Charles Van. 1972. How to Read a Book : The Art of Getting a Liberal Education. New York: Simon & Schuster.
[2] Ahrens, Sönke. 2022. How to Take Smart Notes : One Simple Technique to Boost Writing, Learning and Thinking. Hamburg, Germany: Sönke Ahrens.
[3] Elder, Linda, and Richard Paul. 2020. Miniature Guide to Critical Thinking Concepts and Tools. 8th ed. S.L.: Rowman & Littlefield.
[4] Arrabon. 2025. “Is Diversity the Goal? What Are We Aiming for in the Work of Reconciliation?” Arrabon.com. 2025. https://arrabon.com/is-diversity-the-goal/
14 responses to “On Ranching and Reading”
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I, too, share the “hope” that these books offer. The practical nature of their insights seems easy to engage with, but on a personal level, I have implemented very little of it up to this point in life. For me, this is likely due to the amount of self-discipline needed. However, the cost-benefit ratio is becoming more evident: Their implementation is a lifelong benefit far outweighing the temporary pains of forming a new habit.
Thanks for your response, Darren! I agree with you about the self-discipline component—I’m my own worst enemy when it comes to establishing and sustaining new habits. In this case, part of it will be actually living in the “permission” to toggle different reading types as needed; like most of us, I was taught that elementary reading was the only kind of reading and anything else was “cheating.” I’m likewise new to note-taking discipline and taking fleeting, literature, and permanent notes will probably also feel a bit foreign for awhile. Because the reading and note-taking are so complimentary, I’m hopeful one will help solidify the other as I use them.
I’m surprised at how far we’ve come in our educational journeys, yet we have not been exposed to these ideas. Maybe a teacher tried to show me inspectional reading, but I never understood it. Something about that stands out to me—it’s almost like watching a farmer plant crops destined to struggle year after year. I keep telling everybody I meet about how to Read a Book.
Robert: No. Joke. No doubt it has something to do with different pedagogies or desired outcomes, but I have thought the same thing with both reading and smart notes–I wish I had been exposed to these things earlier. I feel like I’ve forfeited a valuable “slip-box” by focusing on each essay or project as a singular entity, and missed understanding for the sake of elementary reading.
I share the same sentiment, Robert: how are these invaluable skills not part of curriculum much earlier in the education experience?
Because we are homeschooling our children, I have decided to teach them the different reading methods myself. First, for their benefit. Secondly, to test how well I understand them!
Joff, I too, am surprised by how many of us were unfamiliar with this reading style before. It will be very interesting to see how your kids respond to the concept. I wonder how age plays into one’s ability to accept the expanded definition of reading a book?
How old are you kid?
Hey Darren,
My children are 14 and 12. It seems like a great time in their education to become familiar with reading beyond the elementary level. By the time we meet in Cape Town I expect I’ll have some opinion of how well it has worked!
Nice parallel between ranching and reading. I don’t particularly look forward to weeding or reading. In both cases, the outcome is what justifies the work, and there are fit-for-purpose tools to assist both. You echo the need for self-discipline in both practices. The analogy really works.
Thank you, Rich! I’m looking forward to the journey with you and hopeful about how intentional investment in the practices of reading well and smart note-taking will bear fruit.
“It seems vital to retain a discipline where the means serve the ends”
This really resonated with me, Jeremiah. It reminds me of Ahrens’ “Thinking takes place as much on paper as in your own head” (Ch2., p.22).
I’ve been thinking about this concept as it applies to my spiritual growth. Instead of the growth being a means to a more valuable end (doing something), perhaps the means *is* the end. Growth (being transformed) is valuable for its own sake, and that glorifies the Lord.
Thanks for your reply, Joff!
Your comment reminded me of Eugene Peterson’s approach to discipleship as “a long obedience in the same direction.” I agree with you that, in many ways, our spiritual transformation journey is one where, yes, the “means” and the “end” are hard to dissect from one another. Viewing these educational investments (including reading and processing) as a part of that holistic journey provides something of an invitation toward discovery rather than pressure to perform.
Jeremiah,
Yes to the discomfort of processing ideas in conflict with your own! This internal conflict, or wrestling, has been anything but comfortable. However, these new learning systems will serve as a trellis for our projects – providing needed structure and stability.
Thank you, Mika!
On the one hand, I’m really looking forward to engaging with ideas contrary to what I think I know (at least in theory). On the other, I’m not looking forward to the disorientation that will cause. I’m hopeful because in tension, we can find momentum, and in resistance, we experience growth. I’m sure getting to those moments of momentum and growth will be exciting, challenging, energizing, and painful. I’m grateful we get to share in that journey as a cohort!
I appreciate you highlighting Adler’s argument that reading a book is much more than just processing the words. Reading should prompt critical thinking. It’s all too easy to fall back into the habit of reading word for word merely to claim that I’ve read the book; however, it’s entirely different when I challenge myself and engage my mind.